


Champagne Promises

by LilyAngorian



Series: A Gangster Always Needs A Nurse [4]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Dinner, F/M, Revelations, The flirting continues, probably too much dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAngorian/pseuds/LilyAngorian
Summary: Feedback is always appreciated, people seem to like these two, so hopefully all this seems in character for them.





	

He was loitering in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe lazily. He looked the healthiest she’d seen him, though that wasn’t saying much really. He was always so pale. Stella crossed to the door, balancing a tray on her hip and brushing her hair behind her ears with her free hand.

“What are you doing here. Please tell me there isn’t anything wrong with you, I think I’d lose the will to live.”

“I’m glad my wellbeing concerns you that much.”

“Of course you are, you’re entirely self-absorbed.”

The junior nurses giggled behind her, pretending to be reading notes and preparing medication as they continuously shot the pair glances. Stella rolled her eyes at Tommy, and he looked back in amusement. He’d clearly done this deliberately, chosen the most crowded space so he could accost her infront of an audience. Ever the showman.

“Really though, what have you done this time?”

“I want you to come to dinner with me.”

Stella frowned.

“What?”

“Was that not very clear? Dinner. Sitting down and eating. Together.”

He titled his head, smiling. She stared him out, raised her eyebrows.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

She shook her head in irritation. 

“I can’t just leave things at the drop of a hat Mr Shelby, I’ve got patients to attend to.”

“I’ve already cleared it with Matron.”

That stopped the giggling, replaced it with furtive, jealous whispers. In all fairness, Stella hadn’t been expecting that. She was quite shocked.

“How did you...?”

“Oh I’m very persuasive. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“No you won’t. Matron’s one thing, but I’ve got some very stubborn patients. Earliest I'll finish is 8.30, you can pick me up then.”

Tommy nodded slowly. 

“And what if your patients take longer than expected?”

“The you’ll have to wait. I’m sure the cooks would make you something if it came to that. Given how you’re so persuasive.”

“8.30 then. Wear something nice.”

“And there was me thinking you liked a girl in uniform. Goodbye Mr Shelby.”

She turned away from him, but he caught her by the arm. 

“Wait a minute, you haven’t told me where you live.”

Stella looked flushed for a moment, hesitated before replying. 

“I live here actually, in the living quarters on the other side of the building.”

“But-“

“-I really have to get on Mr Shelby. Just ask later at reception and someone will show you up.”

“Okay then. Goodbye Stella.”

“Goodbye.”

The girls clamoured to ask her how long things had been going on, where she thought he’d take her for dinner, what she would wear. But Stella brushed them aside as she crossed to the cabinets and began to rifle through the bottles of medicine, loading up the tray to take to her patients. Louise followed her, leaning against the counter and gushing.

“He’s gorgeous Stella.”

“I’m sure he’d be pleased that you got that impression. But he’s all talk that one.”

“I don’t believe you. He looks like he could do a lot more than talking…”

All the girls broke off into giggling again and Stella shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. 

“Maybe if he got the chance. But he’s not going to.”

She left the room to the sound of groans and sighs, Katie calling after her

“If you don’t, I definitely will! Bear that in mind on your little date..."

 

*****

 

Stella shared her room with two other girls, pretty young things from what little Tommy saw. She'd cracked the door open less than an inch when he'd knocked, barely opened it to slip herself out. But he'd heard sweet amused tones and seen a quick glimpse of a few neat beds infront of the window. Stella was bundled up in a thick winter coat, hair loose but eyes tired. She walked with a determined stride that Tommy struggled to match in the long corridors.

"You don't have your own room?"

"Well this accommodation is usually for the younger trainees. A lot of them have had to move away from home to work here full time. Lots of country girls, and we can hardly let them loose in the city all alone. It’s good for morale if they bunk up and get to know one another."

"Doesn't explain why you're still here. I thought you already had somewhere to live?”

"Been reading up on me have you?" 

Stella walked a little faster for a moment, and then slowed, allowed him to fall into step beside her as she chose the right words.

"I did. But my mother died a month ago. With both her and my brother gone, there was no-one to visit me and nowhere else I could go. The flat seemed empty. Here I have company all the time. Don’t have to waste time travelling either. " 

Tommy didn't know what to say. He let her push the main door open, watched her pause to close her eyes and fill her lungs with the night air. His mind conjured an image of Arthur with a bottle in his hand, that same desperate oblivion on his face. 

"I'm so sorry. “

It drew her back to him, earned him a small nod. Stella started walking again, low heels loud against the stone. 

"Thank you. She's not been herself for a long time. Hadn’t been, I suppose.”

He offered his arm. She contemplated it for a moment and then took it, carried on quietly. 

"It's hard, knowing the way a disease works, knowing that I can't stop it. Having to watch it happen to someone I love.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“You’ve never lost anyone?”

“Me? I’ve lost almost everyone. But not like that. Only - well, that was Ada’s cross to bear.”

“Your sister? Who did she-”

“-Her husband, I was with him in France. We were friends, though I couldn’t be sure of that most of the time.”

“He died in France?”

“No. Fucker survived that, only to die back here. No glory, no-one taken with him.”

“He was lucky.”

Stella was alertly taking in the dwindling bustle of the streets through it disconcerted her. It was a lot darker now winter had taken hold, and the smoke clouded the air. She slipped her arm free of Tommy’s, pulling her coat tighter and hugging herself. They continued walking, Tommy trying to work out how she had come to that conclusion. 

“You think so?”

“Sounds like it. He had your sister, and you. A nice warm bed, and- 

“-and a son.”

“Who he got the chance to meet presumably. The chance to love. Like I said, lucky."

Stella heard noise coming from a back-alley, stopped in the middle of the street to listen. She could hear a raised voice, and soft whimpers. When Tommy realised he'd left her behind he turned back, but by then she was heading quickly towards the alley.

“Stella, what's going on?”

She ignored him, slender frame slipping out of sight. He could hear her voice though, sharp and angry, and a male retort.

"Take your hands off her."

"Fuck off."

"I said," 

Tommy rounded the corner to see her grabbing a fistful of the youth's hair and pulling him away to the opposite wall with a twist of her arm.

"Take. Them. Off."

The boy was well-built, and can't have been younger than 17, but he seemed to be lost for words and unsure what to do. He looked from Stella’s furious face down to what he could see of her silky dress below her coat, and he slowly balled his hands into fists. But Tommy strode forwards towards them, and on seeing him the youth ripped his hair free of her grasp and ran the other way in fear.

Stella approached the little girl, bleeding and bruised on the ground. She helped her up, wiped the tears from her cheeks with one hand and checked over her carefully. Though she was hurt, her clothing was intact, which was a blessing. Stella started rifling through the pockets of her coat, searching for anything that would help. She gave the girl some loose change, an embroidered hanky and a few small wrapped sweets. She told her the name of the hospital and promised that she'd be there to help if anything like this ever happened again. The girl nodded, looked at Tommy with a hesitant look and then hurried away, twisting her fingers into her dress. Tommy watched with a mixture of admiration and bemusement, wondered if there were any moments in her life where Stella wasn't a nurse. Maybe it wasn't just the nurses training though. Maybe that's just what good people were like.

“That was brave of you.”

“They’re only children.”

“He was just as tall as you, and he only ran when he saw me. Besides, you didn’t know what you were running into. It could have been much worse.”

“Well if it had been, I’m sure you’d have stepped in.”

“It’s not safe on the streets at night Stella. Not out here.”

“Yet here we are.”

“You’re safe with me.”

“If only all women could afford such a luxury.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re very outspoken?”

“Someone may have mentioned it once, but I wasn’t really paying attention. He was all talk.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry.”

“C’mon. Let's go."

*****

“Let me take your coat.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

Stella was in a close-fitting violet dress, the colour delicate, but the cut just shy of obvious. Her hair was loose, warm blonde waves bouncing across her shoulders, face painted lightly. She smelled like the night, clear and cool, the faint hint of smoke under her skin. She blinked at him, eyes softer away from the harsh hospital lights. Tommy wondered if she was beginning to look more like Grace, or whether nowadays that’s all he could see in women. Either way, she was beautiful. 

“That colour suits you.”

“Bring out my eyes does it? Or the colour of my skin or hair, or some other dreadful cliche?”

“No. Emphasises your chest though.”

Stella let out a soft laugh, and Tommy handed his own coat to the doorman. 

“This is a nice place.”

“Owned by a friend of mine.”

“You have friends? I’m impressed…”

They walked between the tables, Tommy steering her towards the right one, his hand hovering over her lower back. 

“Good. I want to impress you.”

“Why?”

“Well. You’ve already saved my life several times, I reckon it’s about time I proved that it was worth your while."

“If only all my patients were so preoccupied with trying to seduce me. I wouldn’t have to eat a single meal alone.”

Tommy pulled out a chair for her, used the motion as an excuse to brush his hands against her shoulders, fingers skimming the lines between her skin and the silky fabric of her dress. He’d made sure that they had the best table there, in the very centre of the room, chandelier high above them. He sat himself down, gestured towards the waiter tidying the table beside them. Stella looked around her, well aware that Tommy was flicking his eyes over her body like it was a prospective racehorse. Wouldn’t do any harm to let him look she supposed, turning in her seat so that her body twisted and her hair slid down over her chest, teasing him. Give a little, then take it away. That was the rule, as far as she’d been told.

“You hungry?”

“Ravenous.”

The waiter made to hand them menus, but Tommy waved them away. 

“I’ve already spoken to the chef. And there’s champagne you can bring over.”

“Of course Mr Shelby. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“No, that’ll be all.”

The waiter nodded and left, giving Stella a cautious smile as he did so. She fingered the pristine tablecloth and shifted in her seat.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Not long. Why? Are you impressed?”

“Oh I couldn’t say. But it takes a lot to please a woman like me."

She smiled wickedly, crossed her legs to the other side beneath the table, foot brushing his leg. Tommy seemed satisfied. 

“You’re very forward today. I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy. Normally it’s like you’re laced up in your principles.”

“What can I say? You caught me on a good day.”

“It would seem so. Just how accommodating do you see yourself being this evening?”

“If your intention is to make me blush-“

“-Well naturally-“ 

“-It isn’t going to happen. I’ve met worse men than you.”

She watched a waiter pour champagne into her glass, picked it up and sipped it delicately.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Well I’m celebrating my continued existence. Thanks to you.”

“I see.”

“Champagne isn’t exactly easy to come by these days.”

“Nor are women like you."

Stella blinked back at him, amused. Tommy leaned forward a little, drew his own glass to his lips as he asked

“What is it about nursing people? Why’d you do it?”

“Why does anyone do anything? The money, the fact I’m good at it, the fact it helps people.”

“And have you thought any more about my offer?”

“Your offer? You mean your suggestion that I live and work in an orphanage you’ve created in memory of your dead wife?”

“You don't like children?"

“Not when they’re disguised as men.”

She tapped her glass softly with her nails, secretly pleased with her own wit. Two further waiters arrived with their food, two plates of roast duck in thick dark sauce, steaming golden potatoes and vegetables dripping butter. They talked as they ate, each watching the other intently. 

“So I’m a child now?”

“Yes, I’d say so.”

"I’m sure there are plenty of other qualified women who could do with the work.”

“And if I only want you?”

“Take me home, fuck me, get it all out of your system, and then leave me to get on with my work at the hospital.”

She sensed a neighbouring couple pause their conversation, saw from the corner of her eye the man look over at her with surprise at her words. Tommy ignored them, pursued the matter.

“You think this is about sex?”

“No I think you want to marry me and have lots of little immaculately-concieved children so that we can all devote our lives to God and the care of helpless orphans.”

“There’s something about you Stella. I respect you more than most women I’ve met.”

She only just managed to stop herself rolling her eyes, shaking her head slowly. 

“Is that supposed to sound appealing?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

She swilled the champagne around her mouth for a second, taking away the bad taste.

“Tell me more about Ada’s husband. Your friend.”

“What do you want to know? Freddie was a complicated man.”

“As complicated as you?”

“Perhaps.”

“When did you become friends?”

“We were kids. Lots of them wouldn’t talk to me, or Arthur, or Ada. Thought they were better than us. But Freddie didn’t care about all that.”

“Did he always love your sister?”

“I never asked him. Maybe Ada did. But if he did I didn’t notice. He wasn’t fool enough to make it obvious, well, not until after France. And we were all fools after that.”

“You were there together?”

Tommy nodded slowly, replied with palpable sarcasm,

“Brothers in arms.”

“And it changed things between you?”

“What is this Stella?”

“I’m curious.”

“Freddie found politics. He’d always seen himself as some sort of revolutionary at heart, but France gave him the ultimate justification for all the bullshit coming out of his mouth.”

“Bullshit?”

“He despised me making a living the way I did.”

"Well your methods haven’t always been ethical."

“They get the job done. Keep my family safe.”

“Surely you risk far more danger towards them?”

“One day everything’ll be above board. Then they’ll be taken care of. My son won’t want for anything.”

“So your motivation is entirely unselfish then?”

“Stella, what sort of game are you playing?”

She finished eating, drew the napkin around her mouth slowly before replying.

“There’s a Tommy I’ve heard about, but never seen before. He’s selfish, he’s impulsive and reckless and dangerous.”

“And are you scared you might come across him?”

“No. He’s the man I want to have dinner with. He’s the man I want to take me home.”

Tommy smiled, moving his hand across the table to hold hers. Her palm was damp, nails lightly scraping his skin as she entwined their fingers.

“Stella…”

“I know it isn’t the greatest idea. I’ll probably create quite the scandal in the hospital. But I want someone to touch me, someone who isn’t sick and weak and dependent.”

Her voice was calm and matter of fact, despite the tenderness of her words.

“I might not look sick Stella, but I’ve got more demons than most.”

She stood up and walked over, standing behind him. He could smell something heady on her skin, feel her leaning low over his shoulder to whisper in his ear. 

“Prove it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, people seem to like these two, so hopefully all this seems in character for them.


End file.
